The Heat in the Jamaican Vacation
by grc73
Summary: Tag for 1x06 - "The Man in the Wall". Brennan goes with Booth to Jamaica, which opens up a whole world of opportunities. Written after a prompt by Dharmamonkey.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! So this is all rather exciting, I was chatting away to no less than the great Dharmamonkey on Twitter and was given a prompt!**

**"You should write one set at the end of "Man in the Wall," where Booth winds up w/an extra ticket to Jamaica bc Tessa bails. Brennan goes with him instead. Things happen... There better be smut."**

**So who would I be if I turned down a challenge like that?! 2-3 chapters I reckon. With thanks to my most excellent beta Jenmaccun.**

**Warning: contains many BnB sexual cliches. :D**

* * *

Booth stared at the single suitcase stood in his hallway, forlorn in its loneliness. Tessa had bailed on their holiday... and on him. Maybe it was for the best. He pursed his lips. The tickets were on a great deal, non-refundable of course. He would just have to go to Jamaica on his own, try and make the best of it for a few nights. Start to move on, do something about those "opportunities" he'd mentioned to Brennan...

* * *

Brennan and Angela stood in front of the Angelatron.

"See, Sweetie - here's your Mesopotamian warrior; from the wounds and fractures you found I was able to find cause of death." She generated an amusing and dramatic animation, the warrior's facial features appropriately contorted as he met his virtual demise. "As you can see from these remnants of ancient arrowheads I found from the Jeffersonian artefact database, I was able to get a match on the length and angle of the entry wound - his chest was pierced by one of these arrows," Angela zoomed in on a photo of a rusty looking piece of cast metal; "...and he fell off his horse, whereupon he was trampled underfoot. You can see the indents from two hooves here... and here. Ugh." Angela winced at her own animation. Brennan smiled appreciatively. "I will send you the data."

"Thank you Ange. I will complete the paperwork."

Brennan turned to walk out of Angela's office but Angela called out after her.

"So, Booth's still going to Jamaica alone?" Brennan turned back around and looked blankly at Angela, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Yes."

"Well, you know what that means."

"No, Angela, I don't know what that means."

Angela decided not to state the obvious to a clearly clueless Brennan. '_For a genius she really is thick sometimes. Really, if I didn't know her better I would say this girl had never been in a relationship before..._' she thought to herself, trying not to physically shake her head. She took a breath to give her time to choose her next words very carefully.

"Poor Booth. You know, maybe he could do with some company. He's probably miserable and you **are** his partner. If you went with him..."

"Absolutely not, Ange." We have plenty of work to do here. And besides, Booth said that going alone brought a world of opportunities."

"Nothing that won't keep. You think those skeletons are going to come up from Limbo and demand you put them back together? Zach can keep things going for a few days. This is a chance for the two of you to bond." '_Bonding with Booth_' she tried not to smirk. '_I wouldn't mind bonding with Booth..._'

"Bond?"

"Yes, it will make your partnership stronger." _Here is an opportunity - for them both._

"Really?" Brennan's tone was inquisitive, but she did not sound convinced.

"Improve your mutual understanding" said Angela, with as serious a face as she could muster.

"Really?"

"Yes. It's exactly the sort of thing partners do."

"Oh." _Sucker_. As she turned her back on Brennan, Angela broke into a smile worthy of an evil genius.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be touching down at Sangster International Airport in about twenty minutes. Please return to your seats, fasten your seat-belts, put your chairs back into the upright position and prepare for landing."

Booth looked across at his partner who was engrossed in her very dense book on something to do with the societal structure of a recently discovered ancient civilisation in Central Africa.

"Thanks again for coming, Bones. You really didn't have to, but I'm glad not to waste the ticket."

"You are most welcome, Booth. I thought it would be a good opportunity to find more common ground with you. Angela suggested we could bond." Brennan spoke with no hint of innuendo.

"I bet she did..." muttered Booth under his breath.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"No. Nothing in particular." He changed the subject quickly. "Have you visited Jamaica before?"

"No. Although I did undertake some research once I'd offered to come with you."

"Well this place - it has kayaking, abseiling... loads to do."

"Ah yes, Tessa mentioned that to Angela as amongst the criteria you chose."

"Can we not talk about her please? Sensitive topic."

"Who, Angela?"

Booth rolled his eyes and wondered if maybe this had not been such a good idea. There was no question after their first case together over a year ago that there had been chemistry. *Lots* of chemistry, both of the working kind... and the sexual kind. How they hadn't ended up sleeping together still baffled him, he could still remember the feel of her kiss, even now; but somehow, things had not worked out. They had ended up fighting - badly, and it had taken them until pretty much now to formulate something of a good working relationship. The thing was, and Booth was painfully aware of this - the chemistry, the sexual attraction - that had never gone away. Brennan could be painfully oblivious sometimes (just now had been a good example), but then again, there were moments were they could quite easily cause a fire, the sparks between them were so strong that they hung in the air, waiting for something to ignite them.

Putting them together like this, him so soon after a break-up, her with her (in his humble opinion) baffling approach to sexual relationships - it could just be a disaster-in-the-making.

Thirty minutes later they walked through customs where they were beckoned aside by the burly but smiling officer.

"Just a routine check of your luggage, thank you."

"I'm FBI."

"I'm sure you are, Sir, but you are not under United States jurisdiction right now and therefore you are subject to Jamaican customs checks like everyone else. Now your bags, please - Sir, Madam?"

Booth and Brennan lifted their cabin cases onto the table and popped them open.

The officer searched through the cases, finding nothing of note, although as the cases were open together and facing the same way, Booth noticed Brennan had packed some swimwear that could be considered obscene in certain countries. He also noticed an object just peeping out that *looked* a lot like something one might only usually buy in an adult store, although it was hard to be certain. Clearly the officer had seen many such items before as he barely gave it a second glance and certainly didn't question it. Booth glanced across at Brennan and for a split second she looked back at him with a an expression he couldn't quite place.

'This could be a very long five days...' thought Booth.

* * *

As their hire car wound their way through the lush and undulating landscape of the Jamaican countryside of Surrey County, Brennan looked out of the window, pondering on the sleeping arrangements. They were miles from any of the bigger conurbations so if they were going to keep each other company, they would have to stay at same place. Both had assumed they'd just get a second room if they asked for it on arrival, but when they met the owner of the boutique Bed and Breakfast, he cheerily informed them that his was a small establishment and thanks to the deal he'd put out online, they were now fully booked.

"Oh." Brennan and Booth looked at each other awkwardly.

"You didn't mention requiring two rooms when you booked. Are you very religious or something?"

"No" piped up Brennan, "but my partner is."

"Well" said the owner, "You're an attractive couple and this is the twenty-first century, I'm sure you can deal with each other for a few days." The owner grinned, knowingly.

"But we're not -"

"Never mind, Bones. Let's just go to the room. Thank you." He took a very deep breath.

The rooms were actually several small chalets just off the main house, where they were informed breakfast was served. Theirs consisted of a well appointed bedroom with a super-king size bed, a lounge area furnished with a desk and two chairs, a bathroom that opened out to a secluded outdoor shower and a small walled garden beyond it with a sturdy-looking hammock.

'_This place is totally built for couples...couples having a romantic tryst. No wonder Tessa had chosen this place. Damn it._' Booth had taken only a passing interest when she'd booked and had no idea that they were miles from all but a couple of residential villages, a convenience store and a few local restaurants which seemed to be serving a variety of local cuisines.

"This is nice." Brennan wandered around the chalet.

"Yes..." replied Booth as he sauntered through. Oh...and here is the bed." '_The very big, comfy bed, absolutely made for two.'_

"Yes."

"We hadn't really considered this."

"No. But now we're here..." Booth couldn't quite get her intonation. Was she flirting with him? She was a picture of innocence. That just made it worse. He cleared his throat.

"Which side would you like, Bones?"

"Side?"

"Of the bed?"

"Oh, right."

"OK, works for me, I prefer the left anyway." He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. It all felt terribly domestic to Brennan, which was quite unsettling after her split with Peter some months before, where it had all become terribly strained and awkward which made the split all the easier. This was different. Strangely this felt comfortable. Comfortable and unsettling, all at the same time.

They set about unpacking their clothes, which didn't take terribly long based on Brennan's luggage being mostly swimming costumes and sarongs and Booth's a variety of board shorts and t-shirts.

"So what would you like to do now, Booth?"

"You want to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

* * *

Booth and Brennan, still in their travel clothes, wandered out of the guest house and headed up the road. The landscape was lush and fertile; the hills and valley spread out in front of them. They strolled for twenty minutes, chatting about the history of Jamaica, the climate, the flora and fauna. It felt relaxing not to be dashing to a crime scene or a suspect interview for once.

As is not unusual in the Caribbean, where the sun had shone brightly one moment in a sea of blue, suddenly storm clouds rolled in. Before long the first heavy drops of a downpour hit the backs of their necks and slid down their arms.

"Oh shit, we are going to get soaked."

"We are going to have to make a run for it. You ready?"

Brennan laughed.

"Of course! Race you?"

And Booth and Brennan ran, even though Brennan knew that statistically they would remain only ten percent drier by running, over the speed of an average paced walk. Despite the tropical location they were at altitude and the rain was quite cooling against their skins. By the time they reached their chalet a mile away, they were both utterly soaked and more than a little chilly, their race somewhat forgotten along the way in the quest to return to the chalet without drowning.

Having finally managed to find and dry the room key which had stuck to the inside of his jeans pocket, Booth shuffled the two of them inside.

"Towels?"

"Over there."

"Come here Bones, you're shivering."

"So are you."

"Let's get this towel around you." With that, Booth took one of the bath towels and wrapped it around Brennan's shoulders. He began to rub her shoulders as she shook slightly from the continuing cold against her skin.

"We need to get these wet clothes off. They're keeping us from warming up." Brennan, ever practical.

"Um, yes... Yes we do." And before allowing himself to think about it, Booth peeled off his shirt, leaving his torso bare and took a another towel to start wiping himself down. His wet jeans were still stuck to his legs for now, but leaving nothing to the imagination above the waist, not even for Brennan's writer brain. She tried and failed miserably not to be totally overwhelmed. Subtlety not her strong point, she gazed like a lustful groupie at his musculature, mentally noting every ripple and sinew in her eye-line. She looked predatorily at Booth, completely forgetting who he really was to her. Her look blinding him to any coherent thought, Booth forgot everything he'd told himself earlier on the plane, forgot about their recent case banter and the accompanying flirting that should never go anywhere, and took the bait.

"Like what you see, Bones?" he smirked, and found himself standing slightly taller.

"I am merely appreciating that you obviously spend a considerable time at the gym", she said, with absolutely no conviction at all. She was mostly mesmerised, but remembering the brief for a second without thinking any further of the consequences, she dropped the towel Booth had carefully draped over her shoulders and peeled off her wet top, leaving herself in a simple cotton bra and her own damp capri pants. In her actions she'd inadvertently stepped forward a couple of paces so she was standing right in front of Booth, within touching distance. Within kissing distance. It could be deemed a challenge, who would crack first?

They stared at each other for what was probably just seconds, but felt like eternity. They were far too close to each other for a sensible conversation and after one moment too many of staring, the temptation of around eighteen months of unresolved tension took over and lust won out. Many years later, as a happily married couple, they would still bicker about who moved first at that moment, but like so many things in their relationship, it was absolutely synchronous.

As if they had been pulled together by magnetic force, the next thing either one knew, they were in the middle of what could only be described as a searing kiss, hands roaming over shoulders and around backs and waists as their tongues found each other and began a lustful duel. When the oxygen started to run out, Booth pulled back just enough to start a trail of open-mouthed kisses down Brennan's collar bone towards her breasts as he held her waist, fingertips gently rubbing against where her back dipped into her pants. Brennan sighed. This was even better than she remembered from the year before... and she had remembered that kiss outside the bar more times than she had liked to admit. She ran her hands down up and down his back, loving the smooth feel of his skin against her fingertips. Her brain was focussed on nothing at this moment other than the twin sensations of her touching him and his lips now pleasantly assaulting her. She felt his hands slip back up her back to the fasteners on her bra and deftly unhook them. He briefly moved his attentions to kissing her shoulder as he peeled the straps down. Brennan wriggled her arms to help the straps on their way and the garment fell between them, catching briefly on their remaining clothes before its final resting place on the floor.

In the meantime, Booth had manoeuvred them to the edge of the bed with his legs against the mattress. He pulled them on to the bed so he was sitting with Brennan kneeled top of him and he enjoyed the gentle weight of her against him as he put his hands round her waist, his mouth over an uncovered breast, tongue laving a nipple. Brennan threw her head back and as Booth continued to lick and suck he glanced up to the graceful column of her neck where moments before he'd begun his journey. He avowed himself to revisit that area at some point later.

By now they were both acutely aware that they were both very aroused but still uncomfortably damp. Brennan pushed Booth back onto the bed and now on top of him, started trying to wriggle out of her pants. He pushed his hands down below the material and helped her slowly slide them off, leaving his hands on her butt. He had hardened in expectation during the previous few minutes, causing a delicious friction between them as she writhed. After some more heavy petting, he flipped them over. Brennan shoved her fingers down to his flies and after a little frustrated movement, freed his member from its confines. She stroked him hard, once, and he moaned at the sensation. With his damp jeans and boxers still on, pushed down just to his knees; the brief of drying off by now entirely forgotten, Booth shoved her panties to one side and with little formality thrust into her for the first time, meeting no resistance from Brennan's slick folds. They both moaned in pleasure at the feeling.

However good it felt though, based on the circumstances alone, this first time was going to be quick and dirty. They moved against each other relentlessly, each focussed only on the sensation of their coupling. Brennan's hands roamed over Booth's back as he pumped into her; he revelled in her tightness and she, in his size. He kissed her hard, their tongues clashing as they devoured one another. Brennan cursed loudly and Booth responded with an even more frenzied set of thrusts.

They were both so tightly wound and their sex so rigorous that their orgasms came quickly, one after the other. Booth rolled off her and they lay next to each other, both spent and panting from their exertions. The whole experience had lasted maybe ten minutes in total, but had been so intense they had had no idea of the time passed.

By the time they were done, the sun was shining again through the now evaporating clouds.

"Well..." '_That was __**very**__ satisfying_.'

"Well..." '_Wow. Just... wow._'

"At least we've warmed up." Brennan observed.

"Yes."

"We shouldn't do this again. I mean... it's probably good that we've addressed our sexual tensions but ultimately this would probably cause complications in our partnership."

"Agreed."

"Agreed."

"Maybe we should both get freshened up and changed. Would you like the bathroom first, Temperance?"

* * *

**Y****eah right, because once is gong to be enough for these two, heh heh.**

**Constructive reviews are cherished, thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Back again. Sorry for the delay. Once again, RL got the better of me.**

**A belated birthday shout out to my beta Jenmacun who sneakily had a birthday just after I'd posted the first chapter. Happy Birthday Lady!**

**A couple of author's notes:**

**#1 - Thanks to those of you who reviewed and reckon I've gotten season 1 Brennan "right". I've been watching quite a few S1 episodes - she was quite a wisecracker and more colloquial/contemporary than I remembered. She and Booth were also in a place that they could have quite easily nailed each other with no major guilt issues, it was all heavy flirting and no emotional ties back then!**

**#2 - bones35 posted a review (thank you) mentioning a couple of typos. Please, if you spot something, please PM me so I can put it right. And please also remember that I'm English and my beta is Scottish, so we use British English. I try and use Americanisms where I can as far I know them (from many trips to the US and working with a lot of Americans) as they are US characters, but this is an international readership ;).**

**For those of you who have reviewed, faved and followed, thank you very very much - and I hope you enjoy chapter 2. Chapter 3 well under way...**

* * *

And so it was agreed, it was a one off, never-to-happen-again, sexual event that had cleared out the tension between them forever.

That agreement lasted six hours.

The lapse occurred after a dinner at one of the local restaurants a short walk away that had an integral bar. The instigator of the lapse was a bottle of high quality Jamaican rum.

It had started innocently enough. A friendly chat over the starters, of course both steadfastly avoiding discussing their activities from just hours earlier. Some wine with their meal loosened their inhibitions just enough that when they were finishing their coffees, check arriving at the table, they spotted the bottle of Appleton Estate on the counter shelf. Booth recognised the brand as one he'd had one night out on a training mission, many years ago. Then and there they impulsively bought the whole thing, took two shot glasses from the bartender and began the drinking games. Ninety minutes later, when they were somewhere between tipsy and completely smashed, Booth snatched the remaining half of the bottle off the table and proclaimed they should finish it back at the room. Brennan giggled in agreement. They clumsily left the restaurant, the bottle in hand. Booth offered his arm, which Brennan gladly took, along with the bottle out of his hand, and they gently swayed along the road.

As they slowly staggered back in near pitch black, but for the gibbous moon gently lighting the ground just enough for them to trace their path, set back from the road, Brennan saw a small copse.

"Come on Booth, let's go in there." She pulled his arm.

"Really? It's late. What if there's a serial killer in there?" He teased her.

"C'mon Booth. There's no-one around. We're in the middle of nowhere and we have this bottle to finish. It'll be, um, atmospheric." A rather woozy Brennan waved the bottle around dramatically. Before he could even respond again she had wandered off the road, dragging her partner by his sleeve and so Booth had no choice but to follow where she was leading him.

The copse was no more than twenty or so trees, but they were safely hidden from the road. She found a patch of dry ground amongst them where she pulled herself and Booth both down next to a log, on which they leant, sitting close to each other, taking turns to swig out of the quickly emptying vessel. They heard small rustling sounds and the hoot of an owl.

"That's probably the Jamaican Owl" sighed Brennan. "Native to this country."

"You know there could be any number of critters out here, Bones."

"There are seven species of snake indigenous to Jamaica but none are poisonous. However, there are scorpions, although they usually live in sandier soils. We are in a combination of primarily metamorphic subtypes."

"Scorpions?!"

"Don't be such a baby, Booth, we are not near what is considered to be that type of ecosystem. This is dry, subtropical, forest conditions. Much more likely to find spiders here."

"Spiders?" Drunken Booth leapt up quickly and giddily, bringing an equally swaying Brennan with him.

"Don't worry Booth, the spiders are probably asleep." She shook her head. "Let's sit down again." And so Booth sat back down, propping himself against the log. As Brennan went to do the same, she stumbled and felt on to him, ending up with her head on his lap.

"Hey Bones, you OK down there?" Brennan mumbled something and Booth was aware she was fiddling about with his crotch. He was too drunk to think too much of it until the next thing he knew:

"Holy Mother of- "

...as he felt first her breath, then her mouth on him.

She was gentle to start with, her tongue probing along his length; but as he reacted to her, she took him in her mouth fully and began to work him over like her favourite lollypop. Inebriation didn't seem to have caused Booth any performance issues and his head lolled backwards in pleasure whilst she began to vigorously suck him, fingers caressing his balls though his pants whilst her tongue and lips did the rest. He lowered his hands down into her hair and ran his fingers through the silky mass of auburn, gently guiding her movements, not that she needed any help. Her suction on him was exquisite, her movements drove him crazy. She had clearly done this many times before, but he tried to put that out of his mind as she continued enthusiastically.

All Booth could think about, even in his inebriated state... even as Brennan was sucking him off with what was possibly the best blow job of his life (how he wished he'd been sober enough to really appreciate it), her head bobbing up and down on him like her life depended on it; was how incredibly beautiful she looked in the moonlight.

He couldn't help but involuntarily buck against her as she began to wind up her movements, sensing he was close to finishing. She felt his balls tighten and put in one final endeavour to complete the task before he unloaded into her, unable to hold back a cry of release as he did so. Between drunken stupor and post-orgasmic state, what little brainpower he had left surmised a single thought:

'_Holy Fuck. She swallows_.'

She looked up at him with doe eyes, almost a shrug of her shoulders, a slightly quizzical look and wiped the corner of her mouth. He floundered for any of substance to say, falling back to a safe response:

"Temperance, that was incredible. Thank you."

"You are welcome. I knew I would enjoy fellating you. I wanted to see if you matched my expectations."

She was so matter-a-fact about the whole thing, he was shocked. And then, he realised, maybe he shouldn't have been. Brennan worked like a scientist - empirically. He was an experiment to her. Still, being drunk - he knew that would probably bother him more in the morning. He wasn't really sure what else he could, or should do. So he did the next best thing. He resorted to gentlemanly conduct. He got up and zipped up his pants, took the empty bottle in one hand and her hand in the other, pulled her up to him and gently walked them back to the road. They didn't speak much, partly the alcohol, partly the fact she'd just wiped him out, but he guided them back to the chalet as carefully as he could. He hadn't even questioned her last statement. _Did I_?

They both flopped straight onto the bed and an alcoholic sleep took them over within minutes.

* * *

As dawn broke next morning, they lay sprawled across the bed covers, both snoring away still in their previous night's clothing. The changing light filtered through the thin curtains seemed not to affect them. A knock on the door three hours later, however, gave them a rude awakening.

"Housekeeping!"

"Huh?" Booth sat up sharply, his hair sticking out in multiple directions at once, then his brain caught up with the rest of his body and protested loudly. "Owwww! Just a second..."

Brennan stirred slightly. Booth he looked over at her briefly and couldn't help but grin at her, her hair was even crazier than his, eyes like pandas where she'd forgotten to take off her eye makeup before they passed out. He gingerly got off the bed and wandered open to the door, opening it and held his hand over his eyes into the sun. The owner stood at the door, grinning as he'd done the previous day.

"Good morning Mr Booth! Housekeeping!"

"Um, we're not ready."

"You need to put the sign on the door next time if you want it later. You like the room? Sharing not a problem?" The man attempted to peek in over Booth's shoulder.

"The room's fine, thank you."

"No problem."

"Is there still breakfast?" Booth's body was not entirely sure whether it needed sustenance or a lie-down. He hedged his bets.

"Nope. Finished at ten. Try the place down the road. Late night, huh?" The man grinned even bigger, if it were possible.

"Um, something like that. Thank you."

And with that, Booth shut the door. He slowly walked back over to the bed.

"Bones...? Temperance? Are you awake?" he asked her quite softly. She lifted her head slightly and moaned in discomfort.

"I have what one would describe colloquially as a hangover. I am severely dehydrated. May I have some water please?"

Booth nodded and went to the small fridge in the corner of the room. He poured two large glasses of water and gave one to Brennan.

"Hold on." Booth rummaged in his suitcase and found a pot of Tylenol. "Here, take two of these."

"Thank you." She gingerly took a first sip of water and swallowed the tablets. "I think I might just have another rest for a while."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea." Booth did the same. They both downed the rest of their water and Booth crawled back into bed. Brennan flopped back down on to her pillow. It wasn't long before they were both asleep again, still in the same clothes.

Of course, during the course of the next couple of hours they had both subconsciously shifted. Booth's arm wrapped around Brennan's waist, she snuggled into him. When they woke again it was well after twelve. Brennan awoke first this time and initially enjoyed the sensation of the two of them intwined before castigating herself for allowing herself to enjoy it. '_He's your partner, for fuck's sake_'. She carefully unravelled herself from his grasp and headed to the bathroom, at least grateful her head had stopped spinning and she felt vaguely human again.

Booth woke to an empty bed a few minutes later. Realising Brennan had disappeared off to the bathroom, he went over to the kettle and set about making two cups of something hot.

Brennan reappeared about ten minutes later, showered and looking a lot fresher than some hours previously. She was wrapped in a towel, with another wrapped over her head. _Beautiful_.

"Hey Bones, I made coffee. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you. The combination of water and medication has subdued my headache. How are you?"

"Yes, like I can function at least, thank you. You all finished in the bathroom?"

"Yes."

Booth smiled, downed his coffee quickly and went to clean himself up. Brennan started rummaging through her suitcase for something to wear. Figuring they might go further afield that afternoon, she wore a two piece swimming costume under a pair of shorts and a skinny t-shirt. She smirked to herself as she changed, realising that her costume might not meet with Booth's approval, but that was his problem, not hers. She gathered up a book, sun screen and a hat, grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge for them both and waited for him to return.

In the meantime, Booth was in the shower, pondering on the events of the last twenty-four hours. They'd had really hot sex - that was definitely what it was - sex, nothing more, nothing less; and then he had a faint memory that she'd given him a quite wonderful blow-job in some random forest area nearby. But the first of these had been down to lust and the drenching they'd had in the rain, the second, lust and a great deal of alcohol. Booth was a sensible man and knew that this would end in disaster. It had to. They were so different in everything. Except the sex. In the sex, from just that small sampling, they would be dynamite together. He allowed himself to dream...

Nope, disaster trumped hot sex, and that would be that.

* * *

It was a fairly short drive to the beach. The made their way down the the pointed hills, past the small copse of trees where Brennan suddenly felt slightly odd in her stomach and Booth had a brief but notable tightening in his trousers as he had a faint recollection in his mind as they drove past; until the landscape flattened out and the ocean opened out before them in the distance. Booth parked the car a few minutes later near a quiet-looking beach. The pitched their towels on the white sand and settled down. Booth lay back on his elbows, watching the tide ebb and flow. He'd decided to keep his t-shirt on - the breeze was light and the sun strong. Brennan, however, had other ideas. After a few minutes wriggling to get comfortable, she decided that it was too hot in her t-shirt and shorts and to Booth's surprise, these were removed with the minimum of fuss, leaving her in a swimsuit... or _nearly_ a swimsuit, depending on one's definition of such things. It was a blue-green, and had she not been wearing some oversized sunglasses, would have matched her eyes beautifully. Booth suddenly felt quite flustered. He watched helplessly as she proceeded to rub sun screen into her arms, legs, belly and neck, before turning to him expectantly.

"Booth?"

"Er, yeah?" He tried to sound nonchalant, taking a sip from his bottle.

"I need some sun screen on my back. I can't reach, would you apply it for me please?" Booth almost drowned in a gulp of water.

"Sure." he just about spluttered out.

"Shall I lay on my front or would you like me to sit up?" Now here was a dilemma for Booth. If she lay flat, he'd have to straddle her. If she sat up, she would be kneeling up behind her, his mouth would be dangerously close to her neck, looking over her shoulders down onto her chest... her beautiful ample chest and the riches it held. He would be able to just slide his hands... never mind... Technically if she lay down the only part of him she would be close to were his hands, so he felt this was the lesser of the two evils.

"Lay on your front, please."

She dutifully obeyed him and lay on her front. He gently moved over her so he straddled her thighs, but sitting upright so he could try to keep his manhood away from her in case anything stirred. Her squirted some cream on to her back and shoulders and leant forward a little to begin to rub it in. Her skin was soft. Really soft. She clearly looked after herself - exfoliated regularly - '_probably uses a loofah..._' he thought. He'd not really touched her skin with any meaning when they'd given into temptation the previous day, it had been so intense; and when she'd gone down on him the only thing in his grasp was her hair; but now, this was a great opportunity to touch, to feel, to learn, even just a small part of her, but for the promise he'd made himself, which made it a million times harder.

"Would you make sure my skin is covered under the straps please. I don't want to burn because you've missed a spot or I turn over and my swim suit has moved."

Booth rolled his eyes for a moment at Brennan's pushiness, but then ran his fingers gently under the seams of the material of her top. As he continued, she made the sound of someone who was greatly enjoying a free massage. Booth wondered how this was going to end. Probably badly. His hands were slipping further down her back and towards her swimsuit briefs.

"Don't miss anywhere please."

"Erm, OK."

The hands got lower and closer to the edge of her suit. He paused for a moment to reapply more cream, then placed them on the small of her back and rubbed gently there.

"Mmmmm, that's nice" Brennan sighed. He dipped his thumbs just under the material and she sighed again.

He repeated this several times before he found himself bringing his head down closer to her back and without conscious thought he was kissing down her spine. She sighed again, seemingly quite happy as he continued massaging and kissing. He was brought to his senses by her clearing her throat.

"Can you move please?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I want to turn over."

"Oh."

And he sat up and gave her some space to allow her to swing over on to her back. Booth wasn't sure what her reaction would be like when they faced each other, but it wasn't long before he found out. She pulled him down by his t-shirt to her and they were soon making out passionately. Her roaming hands were soon dipping into his shorts and he was fiddling as best he could to unfasten her bikini top.

The sound of a passing truck with a poorly calibrated exhaust, **_pt-pt-pting_** along the coastal road suddenly brought Booth and his by now burgeoning erection out of their revelry, much to Brennan's disappointment.

"Booth? What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Brennan looked puzzled.

"Anyone could come here. I can't do this here."

"There is no-one here! Where is your sense of adventure?"

"I have a sense of adventure! Just not right here."

"I believe you left it by that log last night."

"Anyone could come here at any time. I really think this is a bad idea. This whole thing is a bad idea." He sounded frustrated and defeated at the same time.

"Fine, let's go." And with that, Brennan got up and stormed off to the car, where she waited impatiently for Booth to arrive to unlock the door for her.

The angry silence that started the journey back was soon broken by bickering. Lots of bickering, about everything and nothing, both picking at tiny irrelevant things. Before long though, the topic was back on its initial focus. Fifteen minutes later they got out of the car, still going at one another like children. They both slammed their car doors.

Booth finally took a breath, grew up thirty years and tried to reason with her.

"It was a public beach, Bones. We cannot do that on a public beach.'

"There was no-one there, Booth."

"Yes, but there might have been." Booth opened the chalet door but seamlessly they continued the argument.

"You are such a prude!" She dumped her bag on the floor.

"No I am not. Enough already."

"No, you enough already!"

"Is that even a sentence?"

"Now you're lecturing me on sentence construction?"

"Well you lecture me on just about everything else!"

"Fine!"

"You have to have the last word, don't you, Bones?!"

"Yes I do!"

They glared at each other for a least three seconds before Booth had Brennan up against the chalet wall and they were kissing frantically.

"Off..." she moaned, their arms tangling as they attempted to pull each other's lower garments off.

"Trying..." Booth muttered, slightly irritably as he fumbled with the button on her shorts. "You make me crazy..."

"...And you drive me to distraction..." Brennan temporarily gave up on his lower half and pulled up his t-shirt, her mouth breaking away from his and following the path laid by the direction of his clothing. After a few moments they had co-ordinated their movements and were both naked, still kissing each other up against the wall.

Booth boosted Brennan up, making her squeal in a most out of character way before sliding her as gently as he could back down onto him. She wrapped her legs around him to anchor herself. As they joined, they both gasped. Using the combination of his raw strength and the leverage he had against the wall, he took her again desperately and she responded in kind, neither of them unable to stop themselves from expending the raw lust they had generated again.

* * *

Some time later as they were slumped on the floor together, Brennan laying with her head on Booth's chest, he absent-mindedly stroking her hair, she mustered up the will to speak.

"We clearly have a problem here, Booth."

"I'm not sure mind-blowingly awesome sex could be classed as a problem, Bones."

"It is when we shouldn't be having it." Booth pondered for a moment at her statement and then, like a lightbulb had literally appeared above his head:

"You know the saying 'What goes on on tour, stays on tour'?"

"Yes! I am familiar with that one. Angela has used it several times."

Well, maybe we apply that rule to this vacation. And when we get back - just partners with a much greater understanding of each other."

"Just partners... greater understanding..." Brennan mulled it over as she repeated his words. "That sounds acceptable."

* * *

**From here on in, we may go a little further off-piste with canon than we already have.**

**Wishing all my readers a very Merry Christmas! I should be back before the year is out...**

**Constructive reviews, follows and faves are greatly appreciated, thank you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A very Happy New Year to all my readers! I hope you had a good holiday season. Thanks to all the reviews, follows and faves. I'm sorry I don't always respond individually to reviews, it's just lack of time. I only log in to my FF account once a week or when I have a chapter update.**

**So this chapter ended up like a can of Pringles - once I popped, I couldn't stop, lol. **

**I'm also on Twitter now! Well, I was already on Twitter but now I have a special Bonehead account - (atsign)_grc73 (please don't forget the underscore.) I follow Boneheads back!**

**Some mandatory author's notes:**

**1. I don't own Bones. If I did, Booth and Brennan would have been married off by series 3, have a LOT more on-screen love scenes and would now have enough childen for at least a basketball team.**

**2. This chapter is reasonably long (just over 5,100 words not including this bit in bold) and probably the most "M" thing I've ever written (although Chapter 4, already half written, is likely to get a bit steamier yet ;) - have to keep Mrs DharmaMonkey happy!)**

**3. This chapter contains a considerable number of B'n'B fan fic sexual cliches. I've tried to keep as original and inventive as I can but I apologise if any scenarios seem vaguely familiar.**

**4. My thanks, as always, to my beta Jenmacun. You are a legend, my Sweet x**

* * *

Like the trickle of water seeping through a small crack that ultimately causes a dam to break when it's not repaired straight away, the new agreement between Brennan and Booth, to allow themselves what was essentially a holiday fling, opened up a crack. Just a small one at first, that spread...and spread... until it would ultimately unleash an emotional deluge that would change everything between them, and their lives, forever.

But of course, it didn't start that way. It started as an excuse to screw each other senseless for the next three days, at virtually every opportunity, with the get-out clause that once back in DC everything would go back to "normal". But in this situation, spending twenty-four/seven together, no cases and an almost infinite amount of sexual attraction? Every time they had sex, or kissed, or connected with one another in someway, another crack appeared in the dam and they edged closer to the point of no return...

The very first crack that opened was so soon after their agreement that they were still lying naked on the floor after their last encounter.

"So now we've decided we can have intercourse... just for these new few days of course," Brennan felt the need to add the caveat, "I think we should take full advantage of what is clearly a mutual attraction between us and act on it regularly between now and our departure." Brennan was all about enjoying these sort of moments with a sexual partner. She wasn't one to set out to use and abuse the men she slept with, but her golden rule was to make sure what ever she was doing, she thoroughly got off on it, and ideally, they would too. Ultimately, it was all about satisfying her biological urges. There was no point in letting emotions get in the way. They just her caused pain and reduced productivity.

"What did you have in mind?" Booth's eyebrow raised, his voice dropped half an octave and his flaccid member, still just minutes post his last orgasm, immediately started to show signs of recovery.

"Well..." Brennan sat up. "It's all been rather rushed. I think we should attempt to take things a little slower."

"You want to take things _**slower**_? After we already...?"

"Not that sort of slower. Clearly, we've already had intercourse, it is somewhat late to turn that clock back..."

"_Intercourse_? Do you have to keep calling it that?" Booth looked slightly unsure of what to do next. It all seemed rather, well, _clinical_. For Brennan though, not one to generally take up social cues particularly well, she seemed to have some measure of Booth, so she turned to him, and, with a sultry smile, corrected herself.

"OK, let me re-phrase. I want a long, slow _**fuck**_, Booth. I want you to _**fuck**_ me. I want it long... and slow... and hard. Am I making myself clear enough now?" She ran her fingernail deliberately slowly and firmly down his chest, leaving a slight red mark that took a few seconds to disappear. "Was that more the sort of language you were looking for?" she added pointedly. With that, she stood up and looked down at him, almost goading him into action with a cocky smile. As such, Booth was now prostrate at Brennan's feet, looking back up at her endless legs and the treasures beyond. He didn't miss a beat and responded with his own dirty grin.

"Oh yeah. I think I can help you with that." And with that, a plan to leave her not even remembering her own name immediately formed in his head.

In a flash he was up and in front of her, getting into her personal space, eyeball to eyeball with her, using his height advantage to just impose himself enough on her, though without being overly intimidating. She was more aware of his proximity than she had been at any time since they'd been at the gun range six months ago, even with their recent escapades. That little tete-a-tete had left her quite sexually frustrated that night. Ever since, she'd played out the scenario any number of times in her mind where things had ended quite differently. Whatever pheromones he was giving off right now, they were having the appropriate effect on her. And then he did something she wasn't expecting. He kissed her, very gently, starting with a peck on the lips and then, as her mouth opened, just deepening the kiss enough to make her completely melt into his arms in the way he seemed now able to affect her. For the next few minutes they did nothing but kiss slowly, his hands caressing her naked back as she stroked the soft downy hairs at the nape of his neck. She could feel his erection already pressed up against her stomach, but when she reached down so she could fist his hard yet silky length, he swatted her hand away.

"Not yet," he whispered to her, and held her hands by her side whilst he kissed her again.

Booth was ready for stage two of her seduction. He pulled them both on to the bed and with some gentle manipulation, arranged her out in front of him until he was satisfied. He was almost surprised that Brennan let him take control in this way, but he said nothing, lest he broke the spell. In fact, she already trusted him more than he realised and she was so aroused by what he was doing, her curiosity outweighed any sense of demanded equality.

He started kissing down her body, but took his sweet time in doing so. He tucked her hands behind her back a little so she couldn't touch him, which appeared to drive her crazy, but also seemed to make her even more turned on. He spent a long time on her breasts, moving between them, gently licking and sucking on her nipples, occasionally giving them a gentle nibble. She moaned at the slight sting when he did that, but he kept going for several minutes until she was squirming with impatience. Then he kissed down her belly and towards his goal, but before he reached there, he took a detour to the junction of her thighs with her body, and running his tongue along the edge of her hip.

"Turnabout is fair play, Bones", said Booth as he looked up into her eyes with a grin.

"I don't know what that means."

"I think you do. You clearly know all about blow-jobs. The one you gave me last night was quite something. I know all about returning the favour." And with that, he gently blew over her centre, making her writhe in anticipation. She squirmed again as Booth lowered his lips over her. He hovered for just a moment over that spot and looked up at her for another split second to check they were OK before engaging, and with the smallest nod and an anticipatory intake of breath from Brennan, then ran his tongue over her most sensitive flesh for the first time, making sure her hands were still tucked against her sides by covering her arms with his own.

Over next few moments, the usually sharp Brennan, who could happily reach orgasm during sex whilst, say, plotting out the next chapter in her book, or going over case notes in her head, would forget the following things in the following order:

- The plot-line of the next chapter of her book;

- The details of the Mesopotamian warrior reconstruction she and Angela had just completed before she'd left for Jamaica;

- That there had been a Mesopotamian warrior any time in the last few weeks;

- Where she'd put her apartment keys;

- Her zip code;

- What year it was.

Three times Booth bought her close to the edge before momentarily pulling his head away, leaving her crying out in frustration. And three times he smiled to himself, briefly looked up and saw her face, beautiful and desperate, and re-engaged his tongue, lapping against her purposely until finally - the fourth time - she forgot her name as well, as she fell over the precipice into a happy oblivion.

In that moment, their very different pleasures emerged - her pleasure in his abilities as a lover; his pleasure in seeing her finally lose control and peak after his handiwork... It may have been blatantly sexually driven - but there was that first breach of the dam wall. However good the sex had been already between them, this took them both to another level, the first hit of sexual crack cocaine that started a mutual addiction.

Booth gave her a few moments of recovery time, kissing back up her now sensitised body before meeting her face to face again.

"You OK, Bones?"

"Mmmmmm..." was all she could utter in response.

He gave her what she'd asked him for, mounting her in one smooth action. They locked eyes with each other for the first time during sex and neither could tear themselves away. He did exactly what she wanted - long, hard and slow strokes, filling her pleasingly, rocking against her firmly but gently and covering her entirely; and he enjoying the feel of her body under his, her core tight around him as he thrust into her.

But ultimately, Brennan did not have as much patience as she thought she did, and much as she was enjoying the feel of him inside her, decided it was all going rather too slowly for her liking and he'd been far too patient, so what she thought was for both their sakes, she took matters into her own hands. Using her martial arts training to surprise him, she waited until his centre of balance was at its least stable during an up stroke and flipped them over so she was on top of him. She rode him hard, his hands roaming between her breasts and around her waist as she directed their movements, until they both came, moments apart, almost in a battle of sexual wits to bring the other to completion first. They never lost eye contact until they were done, and both proclaimed themselves the victor of the phoney war in their own minds.

'_No patience' _he smiled to himself_, _as she collapsed on top of him and they just lay there, feeling her breathing against him as he was still hard inside her, but Booth didn't care at all. _I'll teach her patience over time_.' He didn't even allow his brain to correct itself of his temporal mistake.

'_So gentle_' she smiled to herself as she lay on top of him, feeling his length still hard inside her as she caught her breath against his body. '_I'll teach him some new tricks over time_.' She didn't even allow her brain to correct itself of her temporal mistake.

They hadn't given themselves time.

_Crack_.

* * *

The hammock.

They had dragged themselves out of bed, coy smiles, separate showers and dressing as modestly as they both could with their limited wardrobe, avoiding any physical contact, such was the danger of combustion between them.

"Bones, I'm going to read a book for a while. You OK with that?"

"Sure." They both wandered outside, Booth deciding the hammock was the perfect location for reading whilst Brennan chose the chairs from which to continue writing her next chapter. She kept looking over at him, studying him as he read his fantasy sci-fi novel. This soon turned to full observation mode, her writing progress halted in favour of a remote investigation of him, and before long, the former ranger was aware he was being watched.

"What is it Bones? Everything OK?" Booth called over, not seemingly negatively affected by her attention but clearly wondering what was coming next.

Brennan was trying - and failing to avoid the conflict brewing between her head and her heart because she simply did not believe that the heart was capable of making any decision as a muscle. She had to admit though, Booth was getting to her - somehow. It was likely all the pheromones released from their astounding sexual encounters, but as time passed, she was growing to want to be intimate with him more and more, and not just sexually. He was a caring, kind and compassionate soul and the more she saw of that, the more she'd fought the feeling since they'd been working together. But of course she was in denial. '_Must be the tropical heat this time' _she thought.

That said, they'd both agreed to this holiday... _romance_? _fling_? - so logic dictated that she might as well make the most of it. She gave in to her emotional side that craved his touch.

"I find that I should like to be in closer proximity to you. I believe the appropriate term in this case is 'snuggle.'" Booth sat up and looked a little surprised.

"Really? You wanna come and doze with me on this hammock? That's kinda cute."

Brennan rolled her eyes at him but didn't say anything, got up and walked over. Booth moved across slightly to give her room to climb on - the hammock was clearly built for two, and after some perilous moments rocking side to side as they adjusted their position, Brennan was tucked into him, hand gently stroking his chest, eyes closed as the previous couple of days caught up with her. As her breathing evened out, Booth carried on reading for a while before eventually he too succumbed to their comfortable situation and the half-read book fell on to the floor, his arms naturally wrapping around her as they dozed contentedly.

As they slept deeper, they dreamt. In his dream, they were sharing a life, happily domestic as he danced her round the kitchen - their kitchen, and kissed her over and over as they made dinner together. In hers, he was meeting her at the airport after she'd been away on a foreign dig, swinging her around in his arms at the terminal gate when they greeted, taking her home - to their home, and making love to her sweetly. In both their dreams, their brainwaves somehow synchronised, even though they would never know this occurred - the same statement was uttered by both to the other at the same time.

_'I love you.' he told her as he held her in his arms, kissing her face._

_'I love you.' she told him as they curled up in a post coital haze._

Whether they knew it or not, a revolution was underway.

_Crack_.

* * *

The more time spent together, more cracks.

A plain ol' dirty romp in the dark of the late evening, the night air cooling their sweat-drenched bodies as they lay recovering from another round of sexual athletics. The trigger had come from Booth whilst they just sat in the bed, Brennan this time reading a book, Booth starting mindlessly at the ceiling, his arms folded behind head.

"Bones... what was that I saw in your suitcase when we were in customs?"

"I'm not sure I know what you are referring to Booth." Brennan said blankly, although there was a hint of teasing in her voice.

"I think you know... I think you know because you gave me a look when you thought I'd spotted it."

"A look?"

"Yeah, a look... A look that said _'Yeah, I'm gonna use that on myself because I can't have you.' _ That was your Booth replacement sex toy!"

"I'm still not sure I know what you are referring to, Booth."

"Bones, I'm ninety-nine percent certain that you have a vibrator in your suitcase."

"Oh, that." Brennan said nonchalantly.

"I knew it!" Booth exclaimed, glad his eyes had not deceived him.

"I had not been expecting to share a room with you, let alone have intercourse with you. I thought I'd be fairly sexually frustrated watching your naked torso in the water all day every day, so I thought I would let off some tension alone at night. I worked on the assumption that specifically going as your companion, it would be rude to have intercourse with anyone else." Booth slid over, carefully took the book out of her hands and started kissing her shoulder.

"You were thinking about me? That's hot!"

"Come on Booth, don't tell me you haven't done the same. I may be out of step with some contemporary popular cultural references but I'm not oblivious to flirting. And besides, it's not like we've not toyed with each other before;" her mind drifted back to that kiss in the rain again.

"How about you let off some tension now?" he purred into her ear and he slid his hands under her camisole. "I really wanna watch you."

"Really?" Brennan gave a lopsided smile. "Or I have an even better idea. Maybe we can both let off some tension..." Booth suddenly bolted upright and looked alarmed.

"Were you thinking of putting that thing in me...? 'cause I am certainly open-minded but there are some things that are not my bag, Bones!"

"Nowhere internal, Booth," Brennan chuckled. "There are some excellent erogenous zones that can be triggered externally with a personal massager... You are just going to have to trust me..."

...and there they were, forty minutes later, sheets twisted on the bed, naked bodies next to each other, the vibrator somewhere on the floor, still buzzing. Booth rolled over on to his stomach and looked at her, still in a slight daze.

"I did not know that were such great places to use a vibrator, Bones. That was quite impressive. I'm still tingling."

"It is a most excellent instrument to heighten sensation during coitus. Heterosexual men rarely think to use it on themselves," Brennan sighed contentedly. "It can work for both genders."

"You'd better believe it..." growled Booth as he decided he was ready for another round, pulling her on to him.

_Crack_.

* * *

Lazy sex in the dim light of early morning the next day, before the sun truly rose, where he woke her as they spooned, caressing her chest and belly, his hardness against her lower back. It was the most glorious way to be awoken, Brennan decided and she was soon ready for him, scissoring her legs to accommodate him as he moved to change his angle against her to allow penetration. He entered her from behind, maintaining his close hold on her, her hands clasped over his, bonding them together. Their movements were slow and languid, their mutual goal was staying connected to each other for as long as possible, such was the closeness and intimacy it brought. He brought his hand down over her centre and gently massaged, intensifying her experience. She slid her hand over his and just enjoyed the sense of his calloused fingers working against her whilst they moved together.

To any voyeur watching, this would have not been just mindless sex, they were clearly making love.

Again, like a miracle between them, they came together.

Brennan tried to put out of her head how pleasing it felt to have Booth this close to her and how easily she could get used to this. '_Shit_.'

Booth tried to put out of his head how quickly he was falling in love with her. '_Shit_.'

_Crack_.

* * *

A day in the Blue Mountains.

A bright sunny dawn, breakfast at the house (finally) where they ate heartily, before picking up their rental bikes from their host, who kept a supply of reasonable quality machines for his guests. Booth and Brennan headed down to the convenience store where they picked up supplies for the day and headed out, swimming costumes under their clothes, bikes attached to the roof of the hire car. It was warmer that day and by the time they'd parked and cycled the twelve miles or so to Reichs Falls where they'd aimed to have lunch, they were ready for the break.

When they got there, they paid their ten dollars at the entry kiosk but otherwise the place was deserted, as Brennan's guide book noted it could be out of peak season.

"Probably wise if we swim before eating, Booth."

"That sounds sensible." They stripped off to their swimming costumes, left their possessions in rented lockers and splashed into the water, horsing around in the clear waters. It was truly peaceful and there was literally no-one else about but for the falls caretaker and a couple of ladies selling corn and soups on the riverside. Booth watched Brennan in yet another of her bikinis, showing her shapely form to him. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse now he knew what was underneath.

"This place is beautiful," Brennan sighed as she stopped splashing for a moment. It wasn't often (aside from Booth's apparently magic mouth and hands) that she could completely forget about work and all her demons.

"Yeah." responded Booth, but he was mostly still captivated by Brennan.

"You wanna check out the caves behind the waterfall?"

"There's a cave?"

"Yes Booth, I always do my research. There are three caves; one, Mandingo, has a natural whirlpool."

Sure enough, Brennan was correct. Booth grabbed Brennan's hand and they carefully climbed long the slippery path and along the various cascading mini-falls until they reached the Mandingo cave and climbed in to the pool. It was dark and peaceful and the water warm and caressing.

"The review I read said that the three caves under the falls are where lovers often go for 'quiet time,'" Brennan said, quietly, as she wrapped her arms around Booth's neck and pushed him back against the ledge of the pool. If it hadn't quite gone so far against her nature to do so, she would have felt it... romantic.

'_Lovers... I guess we are for this trip..._' "How long do you think we would have before someone else comes in?"

"I didn't notice anyone else in the immediate vicinity so I would guess at least ten minutes. You are the qualified ranger though, Booth. You would know the indicators better than me."

"So I think we have time for this..." and he kissed her passionately. They made out for a few minutes before Brennan pulled away from him. She fidgeted about with his lap for a moment before she managed to pull out his hardening cock from within the confines of his shorts. For a moment he looked worried. She tried to reassure him.

"Booth, it'll be fine, we've just discussed, there's no-one about, it'll just be a swiftie."

"Quickie, Bones."

"Precisely." she smiled, confidently. She climbed on him, pushing the crotch of her her bikini bottom over to one side and the next thing they both knew she was impaled on him. She took an experimental thrust and it was all he could do not to moan loudly at the combination of being inside her, her doing the work plus the warm water around them. Brennan started to gently bob up and down on his cock, all the while they kissed, tongues mimicking what was going on under the water. Every so often he would put his head down to her breasts and suck her through the bikini material. This pushed her to speed up, the gentle bobbing turning into a more aggressive bounce. Booth let her control the pace and positioning, but this position worked well for both of them. Brennan soon felt herself ready to climax and Booth encouraged her with a whisper in her ear:

"Let yourself go, Baby..." He only realised his affectionate slip after it had left his mouth.

At least she didn't make any sort of negative immediate response, but then, to be fair to Brennan she was in the throws of what appeared to be a fairly significant orgasm and from his recent experiences with her, he was capable of reducing her to a whimper. She kept going through the duration of her spasm, by which time, Booth himself was very close to finishing. She kept her rhythm going and soon Booth was joining her. She stilled in his arms and they kissed a final time before she slipped off him. She readjusted her bikini and he put his now sated and softening penis back in his shorts. She turned in his arms and reclined against him in the water, leaning her head back against his chest and he, wrapping his arms around her.

"This is nice."

"Yeah. I understand why that review mentioned 'quiet time.' It really is peaceful here." He kissed the side of her neck. "I'm glad you came with me, Bones."

"Me too, Booth. Just one thing. Don't call me Baby." Booth smiled into her hair. It was probably too intimate for her, certainly at this stage in their relationship. _Oh my God, what am I thinking?_

"I can't promise that in the middle of sex, Bones." He said solemnly before sniggering.

But neither of them would address what was **really** happening between them...

_Crack_.

* * *

The shower.

"Wow, that was a long day. I ache all over."

"I concede that my legs are weary from the cycling and swimming... and sex."

"...Do you wanna take a shower, Bones?" Booth looked lustfully at her.

"The waterfall wasn't wet enough for you?" She raised an eyebrow.

"We haven't tried this shower together yet." Booth pulled off his t-shirt and board shorts and stood, now naked, behind her, snaking his arms around her, his growing hardness pressing into the small of her back. "We promised ourselves we would make the most of these opportunities whilst we were here. Besides, I did get you pretty dirty in the whirlpool." Booth smirked, though Brennan couldn't see his expression behind her.

"That's true."

"So...?" He tugged on her bikini top gently.

"So...?" she smirked as she stood in front of him, his attentions turning to kissing the nape of her neck which was exposed by her pony tail, still tied up from the cycle back to the car. She was distracted enough that she didn't notice him unclasp her top and it fell in front of her.

"Booth!" she laughed as he proceeded to peel down her bikini bottoms from the sides, pinch her now naked bottom and chased her into the shower stall. She turned on the spray and the water gushed out of the huge shower head, once again, built for two.

"Too cold! Too cold!" squealed Brennan uncharacteristically and she danced around as they both fiddled about with the temperature gauge until the water heated up to a pleasant warmth.

Now more comfortable and becalmed, she turned into him and they pressed up against each other, kisses placed randomly about each other's shoulders and chests. She grabbed some shower gel behind him and lathered it up in her hands before massaging it over his body.

"Give me some of that," he chuckled and did the same to her. They washed each other slowly and thoroughly - much more thoroughly than was required for hygiene reasons. "Now we need to rinse all the soap off," teased Booth.

"Yes we do," murmured Brennan and they stood kissing under the tumbling water without doing much of anything for a while.

"It's the darndest thing," said Booth, sliding his hand down over her mound and teasing her slightly, causing her to moan at the touch. "Not sure I have you clean enough yet." With that, he got on his knees in front of her and licked his lips. "I have to give this area..." he narrowed his eyes..."...a lot more attention."

Brennan backed herself up to the solid wall and braced herself as Booth indulged himself in her wet heat, the water still cascading over them both. By the time he was finished, she was completely and utterly in his thrall.

_Crack_.

* * *

A simple kiss after dinner.

Their last night, a drive to back down near the beach. Lots of long, lingering looks and touching fingers over their meal at an intimate, candlelight establishment, and some discussion of previous cases, with a tiny bit of teasing and bickering thrown in. Once again, it was comfortable and to anyone looking in from the outside, very romantic. These two were a couple completely in love. If only they knew it.

The bill paid, Booth walked round to pull out Brennan's chair.

"Really Booth, you don't have to be so antiquated."

"Nothing wrong in being a gentleman." Knowing they were in a safe place, he offered her his hand, which she somewhat reluctantly took. But she didn't let go, either.

"Let's take a walk on the beach, Temperance."

The breeze was warmer down at the coast, the tropical heat more apparent at the lower altitude. The partners strolled along the sand, hands entwined. The gibbous moon had grown a little older and therefore a little larger in the sky.

"Moon's big tonight."

"Yes, and sitting fairly low above the horizon. Aside from the moon's waxing increasing the percentage of the moon's surface we see being lit by the sun, allowing for our position nearer the equator, the earth's atmosphere being slightly thicker here, and the additional atmosphere the light has to pass through being so low in the sky, gives the illusion of a larger object. The same applies to the sun at sunset." At some point in the last few seconds they'd stopped walking as Brennan had explained. She glanced over at Booth, who was stood watching her, fascinatedly.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No." He smiled at her fondly. "You just look quite..." he shrugged, "...beautiful. And I love how you explain stuff." Brennan actually blushed and was glad that the moonlight helped hide her reaction.

"Oh. Thank you. I do have symmetrical features, which makes me more generically attractive to a potential mate, though of course modern humans do appear to have developed some element of preferred 'type'. You usually prefer blondes based on your previous partners."

"But the only person who I can see standing here with me right now is **you, **and let me tell you, you are definitely **not** blonde." He couldn't help but smirk a little. Brennan said nothing and pursed her lips slightly.

Sensing she was perturbed, this was the point that Booth decided that actions spoke louder than words and he wrapped his arms around her, delivering the sweetest of kisses to her lips. Brennan couldn't help but be swept away, and she responded in kind. They were left in a dreamy haze of each other and the seductive sound of the ocean pulsing back and forth onto the beach, whilst the moon lit up the incoming waves, tiny crests at their tips gently lapping the shore as they rolled in.

_Crack_.

They had been completely sucked in to each other's vortexes. There was absolutely no escape.

But they were still delusional. When they headed back to the hotel for the last time, both tried to push the impending reality as far away as possible. Tomorrow, it would all be over. They were going home.

* * *

**I love reviews, follows and faves. Much, much appreciated and keeps the Muse happy, now she seems back to stay :) Thank you in advance.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! So many of you were so lovely with reviews and follows and favouriting that I couldn't help but get chapter 4 up quickly. Only this may not be *exactly* what you were expecting...  
**

**So it turns out I have a slightly evil streak and when it came to it, it just worked better by splitting the chapter. So the uber-smut (tasteful of course) is coming, just another chapter away. The good news is that this is looking like 6 or 7 chapters, so Tony7323 will be pleased!  
**

**Thanks for all the reviews, follows and faves. I really do appreciate them. **

**Thanks to Jenmacun and her rapid turnaround...;)**

* * *

Of course, the last night had gone too quickly. They got back to the hotel and made love again before the fresh air and activities of the day overcame them and they fell asleep, entwined in bed. They both had a fitful slumber, their only comfort being the other's proximity and the memories of what they had just done:

The way she had kissed him as they pulled each other's clothes off;

The way he had looked into her eyes as he pressed into her;

The way their bodies had moulded together perfectly as they'd tumbled over and over on the bed, screwing and loving each other as if their lives depended on it;

The way they couldn't prise themselves apart from each other when they were done, slow tender kisses and caresses until the tiredness took over.

Even the night couldn't separate them, but by the time they woke wearily with Brennan's sensibly pre-set alarm, still tangled up, it was already eight AM. They hurried about anxiously, awkwardly disentangling before brief and separate showers, packing (or rather throwing their possessions into their respective suitcases), a very quick breakfast and a check on their bill with the ever gregarious owner, before they needed to drive the hire car back at the airport and get their flight home.

They didn't speak much. They'd both independently assumed that they would have time for one final go-around in the morning before they left - to say goodbye to this temporary change in their status before they re-compartmentalised their relationship back to "just partners" - but in their hurry, the opportunity evaded them. Neither could bear the thought of bringing it up in conversation, so as neither of them could think about anything else, the journey was very quiet aside from practicalities.

And so, there they were, checked in and boarded, both sitting morosely in seats 6A and 6B - (Brennan had already arranged them an upgrade after some reluctant complaining from Booth) on the three and a half hour flight back to DC. Booth stared ahead impatiently at the back of the seat in front of him. Brennan attempted to read first the safety card and then the in-flight magazine, but failed miserably at both.

_"Cabin crew, please be seated for take off."_

Booth couldn't help himself. He took her hand in his and held it tightly, rubbing his thumb over hers. He looked at their hands entwined, and looked across at her.

"Um, I'm a nervous flier, Bones", lied Booth, a pained smile upon his face. Brennan knew, but she humoured him for the comfort it brought her, too.

Their eyes met for a brief moment before it was Brennan's turn to look down. She studied the way their phalangeal bones and the flesh that covered them fitted together so well. She really didn't know what to think, how to feel. The last few days had been the exact opposite of what she had expected. She felt overwhelmed, particularly a strange sort of grieving in the pit of her stomach that she would never be able to touch him like this again in just a few hours. She didn't want to let go either.

They held hands for the entire flight, only breaking briefly a couple of times when their mid-flight snacks arrived - packets needed opening and bottles unscrewing, each time Booth wordlessly taking Brennan's readily available hand once again when each task was completed. Booths's thumb mostly rubbed Brennan's soothingly, mapping over and over that tiny piece of her flesh that he could hold on to. Brennan tried to mentally bottle the the sensation of their flesh touching. They barely looked at each other other, prolonged eye contact was just too painful because it would make them face their fears, and neither was willing to do that. Even a quick shared glance bought back intimate memories that flipped both their stomachs.

Too late for them to save themselves, the dam had completely broken. It was a question of what they would do next….

* * *

Inevitably, all things had to come to an end.

The plane landed smoothly and the partners were forced to let go of each other as they disembarked. They sailed through passport control and customs without incident or comment and suddenly they were in the general terminal building, wandering together towards the taxi rank. Circumstance and social conventions forced them to say goodbye.

"So… I guess I'll see you when we have our next case?" Brennan summoned up a cheery expression from somewhere as they queued.

"Yeah. I doubt that will be too long. Seems to be a new one almost every week." Booth paused. "Bones... thanks for coming with me; it was a blast." Booth smiled at her a little too cheerily.

"Thanks Booth, I had fun too." she tried to say as nonchalantly as possible as she smiled back. But both their smiles were hollow, and underneath both of them were utterly miserable.

The thing about addiction is that for someone in the throes of it there is never truly "one last time." They may say it with the best intentions. They may mean it in that very moment, but ultimately they go back to what makes them feel good. In some cases it's no longer a high the addiction gives the user, it's that they need it to make them feel normal...

Booth looked at his watch: **21:36.** Five hours since they'd gone their own ways at the cab stand. And apart from five minutes having a quick, temporarily sanity-restoring catch up with Parker, the other four hours and fifty-five minutes had been spend longing for her again. He'd tried to give himself a sexual release, laying on his bed, music gently playing in the background, but despite a replay of some of their more x-rated Jamaican antics easily popping into his head, his hand was not _**her**_ hand and in his current state of longing it was just not the same. He was left frustrated and lonely. He needed her badly; for her companionship, her warmth, her smile, her touch. He needed one more hit from her. Just one more, then he knew he would have to rely on memory alone. But this way, at least he could get the closure that he didn't get that morning. He grabbed his keys and jacket and headed for the door...

Brennan looked at her living room clock: **9:59 pm**. Five hours and twenty minutes, give or take a minute, since they'd parted company. And she wondered why that seemed such an inordinate amount of time to consider something so mundane. She'd tried reading. She'd tried writing. She'd paced up and down her living room. She'd tried music. She'd even tried masturbation, but her vibrator had run out of batteries having been left on the floor all night and nothing, manual or electric, compared to Booth working his magic on her, anyway. She was left tired and exasperated.

So nothing would extract him from her mind. She kept trying to rationalise it. He was just another human being that she had spent some time in close proximity with. She understood social structures and hierarchies of needs. Only she now had a need clearly marked 'Booth'. Every minute they'd been apart since that afternoon had had her wondering how she would be able to see him again as soon as possible, even going to the lengths of engineering a murder. She was missing him.

Brennan was usually great at compartmentalising; the absolute best. She'd had lovers and even full-blown relationships before, but they'd never felt like this. But then, she'd never had a bond like she'd had building with Booth like this before. The trust and friendship between them had already grown beyond anything she'd experienced as an adult, all bar Angela, even during this short time, and now it turned out that she and Booth were extremely sexually compatible as well, just as she'd wondered so many times. This package of revelations, rolled together, had totally thrown her though, and the emotions she usually kept well protected under the surface, already simmering with Booth for some time, were now completely boiling over. She couldn't understand it in any terms other than chemical reactions, and she didn't like how irrational it made her feel.

This was ridiculous. Just one more go with him. Just to catalogue him to memory one final time. Then she would compartmentalise once and for all and they would both move on. She grabbed her keys and coat and headed for her front door. As she opened it, there was Booth bounding towards her door...

They nearly ran straight into each other.

"Booth, what are you doing here?" / "Bones, where are you going?" They spoke at the same time.

"I was coming to yours." / I was going to yours." They responded simultaneously. And both laughed nervously.

Each took in the other for the first time. Booth was in his jeans, a button-up shirt and a leather jacket. Brennan dressed similarly but with her trench coat on, a little fresh make-up applied. Both looked casual, not dressed up like they were going for a booty call.

"You first, Bones."

"I was on my way to your apartment. I..." her eyes dropped and she looked a touch embarrassed. Booth gently put his finger under her chin and lifted it. Electricity crackled between them. He understood, even if she couldn't say the words.

"I came here because I couldn't stay away. I need... well, um, closure." Booth told her, a little nervously himself.

"Oh... Oh? Closure? Really?"

"Yeah. I felt we never got a chance to say goodbye the way I wanted to. This morning - we were in such a hurry, we never..." he trailed off.

"I confess feeling the same way." His index finger still under her chin, she gently raised her own hand and took it in hers. They stared at their now interlocked hands for a moment before reverting to eye contact.

"We seem to be making a habit of this," Booth gently chuckled before his expression changed to a more serious one. "Can we just...", he waved his free hand around emotively, "…One more time, Bones? I need to get this outta my system. I just need to... be with you for a little while."

"I concur. We need closure." Brennan couldn't help feeling the slight buzz of Booth's proximity. And here was the hand-holding thing again. And she liked it, way too much.

Her apartment door was still open. "We should go inside."

Their handhold was broken as jackets and coats were carefully hung up, and the air was heavy with anticipation and the continued awkwardness of that morning. Brennan decided it would be best to break the ice in some way. Holiday sex with Booth was one thing; but here in her apartment, it was certainly** not** planned and she was not mentally ready for such a step! (As if having sex in Booth's apartment would have been more acceptable to her sensibilities somehow). Suddenly she was very nervous.

Alcohol! Alcohol would loosen them up and take the nerves away.

"Would you like a drink? I have wine, beer or Scotch."

"Actually Bones, maybe a Scotch please?" Booth decided he needed something substantial. Brennan pottered into her kitchen to grab glasses.

"I'll have the same. Ice too?" Brennan called out, smiling to herself at the irony of the metaphorical breaking ice and the literal ice she was putting in their glasses. Sometimes it was the simple things...

"Yeah. That'd be good." Brennan reappeared with two glasses, filled with a generous helping of single malt Scotch from a small distillery in the Western Isles of Scotland - Booth judged about a triple measure each, over several ice cubes. Brennan almost downed hers in one. Booth took a slightly more measured swig.

"Bones, you OK?"

"It's just... this didn't feel so weird in Jamaica."

"I know. It is weird. This wasn't supposed to happen. But now we are here, one holiday and several really hot sexual encounters later, on a booty call to purge each other from our hearts, I mean, from our, erm, selves." Booth hoped his slip of the tongue wouldn't come back to haunt him. He stepped forward and carefully took the scotch glass out of her hand, putting both his and hers on the coffee table next to them.

"You know, I think this will strengthen our partnership further." He plucked up courage to touch her properly for the first time, putting his hand on her shoulder. Electricity surged up his arm and down hers. He licked his lips, providing her with a glimpse of one of her favourite Booth body parts as leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. Brennan opened her mouth just a little and soon they were French kissing, tongues stroking each other wilfully. Brennan's hands were soon on Booth's shoulders as she pulled him closer. When air was finally required, they pulled their mouths apart but pressed foreheads together, both a little out of breath.

"Oh, that feels a little better." Booth grinned at her. "But it's not nearly enough."

"Bedroom," was the only word a flushed Brennan needed to say. She turned on her heel and headed up the hallway, just checking once over her shoulder coyly that he was following. Booth grabbed the scotch glasses and followed her eagerly.

It was the first time Seeley Booth had ever been into Temperance Brennan's bedroom. As such, this was another new part of her he'd been yet to experience. Although he understood her in some ways from the artefacts and furniture she kept lying about her apartment, seeing her bedroom opened up a whole new area of understanding. Books piled up neatly by the bed that were dissected with paper tabs every few pages; a further pile of academic-looking papers on her dresser, next to her very respectably sized make-up collection; a significantly sized wardrobe on one wall, and a couple of tasteful prints on another. Against one corner of the room was her bed. It looked practical and comfortable. It was the bed on which that they were about to do some very indecent things...

* * *

**Don't shoot! Otherwise chapter 5 won't be written, what with me being dead'n'all...**

**Follows, faves and especially reviews are really appreciated, thank you.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the delay, whilst the muse has been co-operative, real life hasn't unfortunately. All OK now though and I snuck a birthday in when no-one was looking ;)**

**On a happier note, h****ere cometh the smut... and there really is quite a lot of (I hope, tasteful) smut in this chapter. **

**If you are under the age of sexual consent in your country, or are sensitive to reading about two consenting adults engaging in ****various types of ****sexual ****activities****, please leave this page now.**

**The rest of you, enjoy... ;) **

**I don't own Bones. Or the couple of The Smiths lyrics I snuck in...**** (though thanks to Jen as usual. Happy belated Burns Night, my Scottish friend!)**

* * *

Booth put the drinks down on Brennan's dresser and faced her.

"Soooooo..." Booth took a breath. "Here we are."

"Here we are." They looked flirtatiously at each other but remained a couple of feet apart.

"How do you want to do this, Temperance? I mean... you looking for a quickstep, or more of a waltz?" He rubbed the back of his head nervously, making his hair stick out a little, all the sexier as far as Brennan was concerned.

"I know what that means." She grinned. "I believe you are referring to the speed of our reaching sexual congress... Just the same as before, Booth." She considered for a moment, her language kept simple by the sexual fog starting to cloud her brain, "Whatever... works. We just need to make it..." she bit her bottom lip with the faintest hint of suggestion as she kept strict eye contact with him, "...count..." her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence.

"Yeah, it definitely has to count." his voice lowered, sending a little shiver up her spine.

"Because this is the last time..." She looked away for just a brief second and they both knew she was lying.

"Absolutely the last time..." he agreed, committing the same falsehood.

Still maintaining eye contact, they both shifted forward, as if they'd been pushed by some third party, so they were inches apart. This needed to feel like the first time again, and the second, and the third, and every other damn time they'd _fucked_ and _made love_ in the last few days. To herself, Brennan could possibly admit that some of what they'd experienced was more than just sex now, although to really admit it was _love_ would be to betray every rational law she'd placed upon herself in the last decade, and let herself open to suffering the fallout of such irrationality. She didn't know if she were capable of dealing with that.

But then, here they were, about to embark on creating something she'd never yearned for in this way. This needed to feel special because Brennan wasn't expecting to get another chance with Booth, and she wanted, no, _**needed **_to know every fucking thing about him; his body and his sexual urges until there was nothing else to learn. And she would take that to the grave because from what she'd experienced so far, no one else was ever going to come remotely close to him again, and it made her angry, _**so angry**_, to think she'd never have it again... and it made her long for him, even though he was standing right in front of her.

Deciding she was going to lead this expedition, for now anyway, Brennan reached out for the uppermost closed button on Booth's shirt. Slowly, she pulled it through the threaded slit, running her elegant fingers upwards over the small exposed area of his chest as the shirt fell open slightly. He gulped in response and she noted the action of his Adam's Apple and the effect the small gesture had on him. She used his clear arousal to her advantage and repeated this deliberately slow gesture with the next button... and the next... glancing back up at him _oh __so innocently_ between each action.

It was his undoing and they'd barely started. Blood rushed south and Brennan could see his member already outlined against his jeans in an increasingly impressive package. Booth didn't really care. It was an elegant torture and he _**wanted**_ her to know what this did to him. He needed her to understand how much this meant, even before they'd even really touched. She was stubborn, and overly rational, and a know-all, and yet she ticked every fucking box for him.

One by one, button by button, Booth's shirt fell further open; and every time she unhooked another button, her hands were smoothing over a slightly lower part of his torso, though she was watchful never to drop her hands to his denim-clad erection. She would save that pleasure for later. Booth kept his hands at his side, although it was all he could do not to grab her and take her roughly then and there. He knew they'd both enjoy it. But he also knew that the prize would be far greater if he played the long game with her.

Brennan especially took her time when she reached his stomach and couldn't resist but run her fingers over his abdominals for a little longer than she had with the rest of her tactile adventures so far. She played his muscles like a Stradivarius, taking such care to map each and every tone and nuance. He watched her, spellbound by her ministrations.

Finally, Booth's shirt was entirely hanging open with a most glorious window to what lay beneath, and she took the time to stand back slightly to admire her handiwork. Then she walked around behind him and slid the material off his shoulders, following it up by running her hands firstly over both his acromia several times, giving him a brief impromptu massage; and then a single finger down his spine to his waist band, which made him entirely shudder.

Brennan walked round to face him again. The now shirtless Booth smirked as she took his entire upper torso in one eyeful and he watched her computing every ratio, every measurement. She stepped in again to run her hands indulgently over his pectorals but he reached up and caught them before they could reach their target.

"My turn," he said simply to her and repeated her actions, just as slowly and deliberately as she had done to him. What was different this time was that for every button, he would kiss her delicately, his lips merely brushing against hers in a dangerous tease, never letting it get beyond that. Until that was, he reached the final button and her blouse was now open, leaving her perfect cleavage and flat stomach in view under the black lacy push-up bra she'd grabbed that morning whilst he was still in the shower. If he'd have known, they'd sure as hell have missed their plane.

He put his mouth to her ear and after biting her earlobe just enough to let her know he meant business, he whispered into the shell of her ear:

"Tit for tat, Bones. You get my tats..." he flicked her the inside of his wrists for effect, "...and I get your..." and he trailed off with a snort, letting his fingers take over the talking. He pushed her blouse back away from her body, leaving it hanging off her delicate shoulders, then putting his hands firmly on her lace covered breasts, where he spent a few moments just enjoying the contrast of the material against her skin, and sometimes dipping his fingers along the line of her cleavage as he felt himself harden further. Then it was his turn to walk around behind her, softly sweeping her hair over one shoulder, placing tiny kisses on her neck as his hands worked the clasp on her bra. He pulled it away from her and pushed the offending item on to the floor, before putting his hands over her now exposed orbs, gently measuring the weight and shape of them in a way he hadn't given himself time to before. He rested his head very gently on her shoulder as he flicked her nipples playfully a few times, watching them harden and peak before he started to play with her breasts like his favourite toy.

There was something extremely erotic for Brennan about watching Booth's hands mould and massage her from behind like this and the resulting effect was a dampness in her groin that was becoming hard to ignore. Booth, ever vigilant, noted an almost imperceptible movement in her hips that told him she was ready for more, and he couldn't wait.

"Still not enough." he murmured into her ear. With that, he reached around her waist and began to unbutton her jeans. He slid his hand down her flat stomach and towards her fly. He dipped his fingers into her panties and found the soft curls telling him he was in the right ball park. Another couple of inches and, _oh,_ there he was, the folds of moist flesh and a gasp from Brennan that told him he had reached the pitcher's mound. (He couldn't help but chuckle to himself at that one; sex be damned, he still loved a good baseball pun.)

"Is that for me, Bones?" his deepening voice permeating through her.

"You know it is," she moaned at him.

"Jeans, off..." he ordered, and pulling his hand away from her heat for a moment, started to pull the denim down himself. Once they were pushed down part way, Brennan did the rest herself and shucked them off, leaving her in nothing but the matching lace black panties from her underwear set. He walked back around her, gazed adoringly at her for a second and was about to start again on her breasts from the front when she stopped him, putting a hand on his chest firmly.

"My turn."

Brennan did what she'd been unable to do satisfactorily before, and put her mouth to his chest, tongue rasping over his muscles, fingers pinching and touching around and about the darkened zones of his nipples. As he was distracted by this, Brennan dragged her hands down to his trousers and unbuttoned his jeans efficiently. His hardened cock pressed against the fabric of his jockeys as Booth finally kicked off his pants. She stepped back again to to admire him for a moment.

So there they were, both nearly naked, at the equivalent of their own sexual Kaiten-sushi bar, both wondering what the hell to pick off the conveyor belt first. Fingers twitched. Hands clenched. Eyes marvelled. It didn't seem to matter that they'd been naked together before. This was different. This was _DC_. _Home_. The word flickered across Brennan's brain. He was in _her_ home, in _her_ bed, with _her_. It felt totally right, which was computing in her head as _totally wrong_. She glazed over for just a second at the enormity of it all, before she remembered she had a gorgeous, virtually naked man in front of her who wanted to do wonderfully bad things to her and that overruled any rational thought.

What Brennan re-focussed on first was the way those jockeys sat on his hips. His illi, (her brain briefly re-registered the Latin name as she stared at his crotch), just peeped out of the top of his shorts, the jersey material moulding itself alluringly to his body. His pubic extension (just enough hair, not too much) trailed up onto his belly enticingly. She dropped down to her knees and kissed along the line of the material where it met his skin, and ran her fingers over the clear bump in front of her. She kissed him through the fabric once, twice... and felt his body tense slightly as he sighed deeply, trying to keep some element of control. She looked up to see him looking down at her with darkened irises.

"I want to fellate you again. This time I want to remember doing it." She chuckled. But she was surprised when he pulled he up sharply. "Booth!" she exclaimed. "This is the last time we do this, I want to remember it..." She admitted to him, not quite looking him in the eye. Not with every man, but with Booth, almost anything would be fair game.

"I want that too, Bones. Believe me, I _really_ like it when you do that. But I was wondering if we were to, erm, doittogetheratthesametime?" He mumbled the last part of the sentence very fast, almost embarrassed to have suggested it.

"What?" She genuinely didn't really hear him properly; but equally, Booth didn't think she was making it any easier for him, either.

You know, I could, erm, do you at the same time." God, he was so much better at actions than words. Based on their previous activities, it shouldn't have felt awkward, but it did.

"Mutual oral-genital sex?" she stated back to him in clarification.

"Um...yes. Although you don't have to put it in such sexy terms, Bones. Way to kill the mood."

"That's what it is though Booth. I don't know why these terms bother you so much. I am merely stating fact." Booth sighed again. His body was betraying his frustration by remaining ready for action, the squinty sex talk having done nothing to dampen his ardour.

This time Brennan's eyes seemed to go dark and twinkled at him as she put her hand on his chest.

"Yes. I think it will be most pleasurable." And with that, before he had a chance to say anything else, she pushed him back onto the bed until he was prone, walked round to the other side and climbed over him, starting with an upside-down kiss on his lips worthy of Spiderman, continuing a path of kisses down his torso that hovered at his six-pack again; and ending with her face lined up at his crotch, and he, by default, at hers.

It took a little precision manoeuvring, some last minute placement of some nearby pillows, and some nervous giggling, but they worked out the optimum position for what they wanted to do. And then they began, tentatively at first as they navigated the immediate territory of lower torsos and inside thighs. Then tongues met smoother flesh; nerve endings were stimulated over and over, and pleasures were given and taken in equal measure by the partners, both striving to complete the other, to make it count for something, anything that they could store to memory forever.

Finally, with a rush and a push, the land was theirs, and they dived willingly, white light flooding their eyes as the end came, leaving them breathless once more at the intensity of their orgasms, eventually settling next to each other, top-to-tail, like the last two sardines in an emptied can.

* * *

"Fuck." Brennan panted, her entire skin still covered in goose-bumps, occasional aftershocks still causing tiny shudders as Booth, now on his stomach, trailed his fingers gently, alternating between each of her smooth, slender legs.

"You're telling me."

"I think we need a..." she could barely find the words, "...time-out... for a few minutes. Would you like a glass of water?"

He sat up slightly and glanced over at the remainder of his watered-down scotch still sitting on the dresser, the ice having steadily melted over the preceding interval. He was tempted just to take that, but realised they both needed a minute to realign themselves, so took her up on her offer.

"Sure, thank you."

"I'll just..." Brennan never finished her sentence but climbed off the bed, grabbed a bath robe from the dressing table chair and steadying herself, made her way to the kitchen. Booth lay back contently at the thought their little experiment appeared to have had on her. Then he thought about what it had done to him and he could feel himself just starting to react again.

Booth had been to war and knew how some men would seek out a date or a hooker the night before a battle in case they never came back, to lose themselves in sex and forget this could be their last night on the planet. He had never done that - it just wasn't his style; but tonight he could understand how those men had felt. To take such desperate pleasure in the knowledge they might never again. To feel a lover's touch, have them moan their name, to take lustful pleasure to spill their seed wantonly. Tonight, he felt all those things for Brennan, but there was something else; but of course could not admit to her out loud, that it would spoil everything if he uttered those three words. Nothing - not anything, would let him lose that last tiny but fundamental piece of control tonight.

For now though, they still had until the sun rose the next day - he would take that over the technicality called midnight, and he would absolutely make the most of that opportunity.

* * *

As Brennan poured out the glasses, she considered how addled her brain had become in the previous half an hour. How weak-kneed and giddy she had felt as her feet had touched the floor and how she'd had to steady herself as she left the room, such was the strength and duration of the orgasm she'd had. How the hell had he done that to her? It was so more than physical. And once again, she was in complete conflict by knowing such a fact to be relentlessly true. She was confused, only if she had chosen to look deep within herself there was no doubt she knew the true answers to her confusion. But denial is a false friend to the weak...

For now, she would just have to enjoy what she had left, seven to nine hours of sex and sleep wrapped up in his muscled arms on the basis that "tomorrow" was really the following morning and not midnight, perhaps he would humour her in this regard; and she would deal with the consequences later.

Brennan pulled back her shoulders, stood up a little straighter and picked up the glasses.

* * *

As Booth pondered, Brennan came back in, two glasses in hand filled with clear cool water and gave him a quick glance up and down, noting the beginnings of his renewed tumescence. She smirked as she handed over one glass.

"Here."

"Thank you." He sipped his drink and she did likewise. "So, fully recovered?"

"Yes. That was extremely...powerful." Her mouth straightened. She still seemed a little affected. She sat down on the end of the bed. "I hadn't expected that."

"Me neither; but it doesn't surprise me. We're good together, you and me. We fit." They were both quiet after that statement, disappointment sinking in that after tonight, there would be no more fitting together, not like that anyway, only in a friendly, partnerly way of doughnuts and health food bars, dinners at Sid's, late night drinks with long lingering stares that never led anywhere.

Brennan put her drink down and looked into the distance pensively. Booth sensed that if he cut through the sexual bravado, she was clearly feeling something else towards him, about their situation, even if it was nothing close to the strength of feeling he had for her.

"Bones? C'mere." Still wearing her robe, she lay down next to him and buried her head in the crook of his neck and put her hand across his torso as he wrapped her up in his arms.

"You gonna take this off? You're gonna get hot pretty quickly under the covers."

"OK..." and she pulled upright for a moment to slip it off before returning naked into his arms.

'"That's better", and he kissed her temple. They stayed like this for a while; not sleeping, but quietly laying together, just being.

* * *

A few minutes later he did the same again, moving his head across to gently kiss her forehead. She looked back at him as he pulled away following his tender action and she followed his movement, rolling atop him and kissing him with purpose.

"I want more. Right now." She spoke quietly to him between kisses, but was firm in tone.

Booth said nothing, he just kissed her back with more passion.

"I want you, Booth." He still remained silent but his breathing was heavy and he pressed into her slightly, just enough make her aware of his own desires.

"Booth, please." She was pleading with him, rather more than she would have liked.

And with that, Booth moved over her so she was underneath him, and slid home. And it felt like home. She smelt of cinnamon and vanilla and the faint scent of _clean_ and _fresh, _even though she was now anything but, after their recent exertions. They locked eyes and slowly he started, thrust by thrust, to bury himself deeply inside her, and that was as much metaphorical as it was physical. He wanted her to know what he felt for her and what he couldn't say in words he tried to tell her with his body. She met him each time, the delicious friction driving her further towards her own end. With every movement, he prayed this connection with her would never end; and she found herself wishing that she could stop the march of time.

When they were done, they ended up side by side, bodies just touching. A single thought shared.

_I can't let this__ stop__. _

But neither knew how to tell the other, and they both drifted off, staring at the ceiling.

* * *

Twice more they made love that night and into the morning. The second time, just before dawn, the sun yet to creep above the horizon, she woke him sleepily and with her own heavy lids ran her fingertips over him, before he drew her to him and facing each other, once again they connected. Slower and more methodical than the last time, a gentle sexual ramble across a rolling field rather than the frenzied romp they'd shared a couple of hours earlier. Booth pondered on their ability to change pace so easily with each other. It didn't matter what they got into, somehow the pay-off was always the same. He would never have to gamble again. He had already hit the jackpot.

And finally... finally Booth really let something slip as he kissed her for the thousandth time that night. He had been so careful not to let himself fall, and then not to let her know that he had fallen. And when he accidentally uttered the three words, the look on her face left him completely bewildered.

Whatever had come before, this had now entered new territory.

And to that end, neither Booth nor Brennan knew what the hell to do next.

* * *

**There is more coming, I promise!**

**Constructive reviews, follows and faves are cherished, thank you.**


End file.
